Cape Town

It's tuesday, Stone's got Black Label for R5,
before we go we smoke dagga to get high.
Step out on the windy streets of Cape Town,
Obz is going off and I'm about to straight smoke clowns:
on the two-ball rule, playing pool to the juke box,
everybody's lovin' that Angolan hip hop.
Earlier in the day the Springboks beat the All-Blacks,
we watched it on the tele, man, it was fat.
A lekker braai and the cape malay curry,
we're on a ride now, a culinary journey.
I got a call from Siyabonga down on Long St.
He's gonna be reciting his poetry over a bomb beat.
The majestic spirit of the Zulu lives.
The Inkatha party is getting the next bid,
naa, but for real, Mbeki's got it locked.
Him and his cronies won't stop scheming the plots.
It's about time for a Mandela revolution,
do the Madiba dance and read up on Paul Nugent.
Any way I'm off. Sharp.
Hout Bay, Knysna, Drakensberg Park...